Tales of an Angsty Dimension-Jumper
by Opiate In Fantasy
Summary: It wasn't what I thought it would be. I thought I was special, the one who they would protect. That what happened to people in these situations, right? Escaping from harsh realities and retreating into safe fantasies. I'm in Hetalia. I can smell the adventure in the blood that's been shed. I'm living the dream, right? WARNINGS: Self-insert, slight AU, self harm and other things.
1. Wrong Turn on Dimension Lane

**EDIT MAY 5, 2013 I am re-doing the first couple chapters, just 'cuz I'm bored and I need some inspiration for this story. So this is remade chapter one. The rest may take a bit :I Also, the author's notes were kept the same for the sake of convenience**

* * *

**Okay. So before you all punch me in the face for how absolutely idiotic this is, please note that my friend asked me to do this. Ugh. I just started watching Hetalia about a week ago, and I don't really know all that much about it. Although I do like it. It's fucked up and offensive, just like me. My friends who got me into Hetalia call me Japan-kun because I act like him in real life, flustered easily and polite and all that. I know, right? Who woulda guessed? Anyways, I need some major help with this. She pretty much gave me the first chapter idea and said 'Japan-kun, you're so cute! You have to do thisss!' and I'm just like 'O-okay... Please stop hugging me...'**

**So she wants me to go to the world of Hetalia. Also, the actual way I got there will be explained later. Don't worry, it's pretty well thought-out. It's also the excuse I use for ALL my fics that have to do with dimension-traveling. Lastly, I used this request to practice first person POV, because I suck at it. Who better as a first subject than myself? Also, this takes place when I was 11, because I can't analyze my current self or future self well enough or at all, respectively, to do a first-person with my thoughts on what's going on. Yeah, 11-year-old me was very depressed and angry – this was back when I didn't have any friends and I hated the world. I thought that'd make it interesting. So, uh, let's get this party started?**

* * *

You know, sometimes people just feel... defeated. D'you know what I mean? That feeling of hopelessness that creeps up into your chest and eats at you?

Whether you do or not, I've felt it. I've felt it, and it's been there for years. It sounds pretty stupid, but it was like little, icy termites were chewing on my wooden mind. I was lonely, scared, angry, upset... and I was too stupid to realize there were so many people around me to help. It took a lot for me to realize that there were, you know. It took an entire clichéd fanfiction plot to figure it out, actually.

Er, you're probably really confused, aren'tcha? Luckily for you, I wrote everything down. A certain someone told me to. I'd tell you who, but you'd probably ship me to a looney bin before I could explain. So I'll just show you. I guess I should start where this all came about; so here you go. It was the first day of my lovely summer vacation. Just promise to hear me out before you call me crazy, okay?

It was what seemed to be a normal day at my school; annoying-ass birds chirping, obnoxious blue sky, the summer sun shining through the windows and into the classroom, blinding the unlucky me who just happened to sit right next to the window. You know, the usual.

In summer school, that is.

Of course I was in summer school. Failed science, math, art, music, computer, German trial, Spanish trial, Chinese trial... A whole fucking rainbow of failures. It was funny – all the grown-ups around kept telling me _'hey, Brittany, you're super smart and talented and blah blah blah, suck my ass!' _- but you know what? If I could do it, I wouldn't be here, now would I? So you know what? All the adults can eat shit.

I shoved the papers the teacher gave me into my backpack after I watched all the other kids leave. Quite a few ripped and crumpled up, but to be quite honest, I gave no fucks. After the unworthy-ass work was in my bag, I took out my Miku Hatsune doll from my bag. And don't fucking laugh, she's probably a better friend than any of the other kids in dump. I hated this place, and I hated these people. People are stupid. They do nothing but pretend to like you and fuck everything up and when they do like you they just fucking leave, and Fate decides to be a bitch and_they can't come back. _I moved out of the room alone and was running off to the stairs to finally get out of this place for today.

As I headed for the stairs, a certain blonde head of hair caught my eye. Cut to perfection, draping to a matching perfect chin, a matching plastic-ass body and fake personality. He stopped me before I could escape, smiling at me in the sickest, most fake way possible. "Hey, Brittany. How was class today?"

It was Zack. The one kid who just couldn't leave me alone. He pitied me, and he couldn't just back off like everyone else. No, he had to act like the fucking golden hearted hero he was. He had to help me so he could wave me around as his latest award, saying _Hey, you guys, I finally got the emo kid to be friends with me! Aren't I just the best?_

"Shut the fuck up." Why couldn't he just leave me the fuck alone like everyone else? He was smart and perfect and had so many friends and he came here during the summer to tutor people and shit - He was annoying and was constantly so damn condescending and asking me to be friends and I couldn't get him to leave-

"Come on, just stay and talk for a little while. I can help you with your math work if you want. It gets pretty hard, doesn't it? To be honest, math isn't my best subject either, but-"

"Shut up, I don't care!" I growled, making a break for it. But, oh, wait! Zack was perfect, so his magic fast reflexes allowed him to grab my wrist to stop me. He told me to wait, but the stinging pain in my wrist caused me to recoil. Of all the fucking places, he had to grab there. Letting out a small squeak of pain, I ran off in a blind direction, which happened to end up towards the stairs. "Leave me alone! I don't care about you!"

The bastard chased after me, he thought I was sad, and I'd say _no, I'm not sad you prick, just leave me be _and he could see through me, these walls I made so carefully and I remember – I remember I was crying because he was so much like him– and I couldn't see - and you know what I did?

I thoughtlessly crashed into the banister of the stairs, leaning over it and

f

a

l

l

I

n

g

all that way, feeling free, like I was flying, and I felt so happy – like something good was about to happen – and I didn't realize what was going on while I laughed. Without knowing about the floor below, I kept

falling and

_falling and_

_ falling..._

_._

_._

_._

I was warm, peacefully so. It was comfy, and I was perfectly relaxed except for my head throbbing to the rhythm of some unknown drum. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. What the hell happened? I couldn't remember, the last thing I could think of was packing up my stuff and leaving and having that little prick talk to me, and... _yeah, that's about it..._

I sat up and gazed around the room thoughtfully. The walls were a pale orange, and two shut doors rested in white frames on the walls. The bed I was on was large and white – and really freaking comfortable – It was very... expensive-looking. Even down to intricate vines carved into the glossy wooden headboard of the bed, this shit was fancy as balls.

I didn't recognize the room, but whoever owned it had to have been rich. I peaked my head in interest when I saw a window to my left. I got up, rubbing my head and feeling some bandages on my head and seeing a couple on my arms. Shit, what the hell happened? I inspected the window and saw there wasn't a mesh screen or anything past the glass. I looked down, and I was on the ground floor. It was a bit of a long drop, but I think I've had worse. Time to leave. Taking up in an unknown room with injuries and slight amnesia wasn't a good thing. I'd best be leaving before I had a panic attack.

I attempted to pry open the window with my pathetically weak hands when I heard a voice, saying something I couldn't understand. It was getting slowly louder, and with the edition of the small thumping of feet, I realized that _hey, dipshit, someone was coming_. If this was a kidnapping or something, whatever the sick fuck wanted was probably to be saved for when I woke up. I didn't want to know what it was. I dived into the bed as fast as I could, snuggling into the covers like I never got up, and closed my eyes. _Please don't know I'm awake – for fuck's sake, don't notice, please!_

I heard the door open, and I steadied my breathing as well as I could. I think he sat on the bed – I felt it move – and he placed a hand on my forehead. I flinched slightly, and cursed myself mentally for getting scared, but the dumbass didn't seem to notice. _Please stop touching me pleasedon'ttouchme-_

He sighed. "_Pobre chica, voy a verificar en usted más tarde. La fiebre ha bajado por lo menos_..."(2)

...Oh.

Oh, dear.

So, _that _wasn't English. Okay then, was it Spanish? Or French? Shit, I don't know.

He got up and left with the light slam of the door. He fucking touched me. No, no touching. Fucking child molesting pervert freak _holy shit I need to leave right now. _I quickly pushed the window open and slipped out with some difficulties – I barely have the coordination to walk, much less climb out a window – rolling onto the dirt below. I let out a squeak of shock and a bit of pain, but I got up and ran to a large group of trees nearby. Anywhere else was open space, and given that this little plain they happened to live on was fucking _miles_ long, going anywhere else would've resulted in me being spotted.

Therefore, the herd of Fluttershys was my only option. (3)

* * *

"Ah, shuddup, you bastard! _Get the fuck off of me!_"(4)

Poor Romano had just decided to try and clean up the house for once. It was messy – like, under-a-10-year-old-boy's-bed messy – and even he couldn't stand it. Naturally, Spain had walked in on him. The tomato bastard had been so impressed, and was hugging the younger nation mercilessly, blabbing about his cuteness.

"Aah, too cute~! You're so lovable when you want to be!" The elder cooed. This really hadn't satisfied Romano.

"I said, get _offa _me!" He cried with a push, forcing Spain off of him, "Go... pick some tomatoes or something, will ya?! _Holy crapola, you're fucking annoying..._"

With a wave, Spain resigned his attack for the meanwhile. He laughed, "Aw, I'll come back when you're feeling less shy~"

This got nothing but a sigh from Romano, who made his way to the currently occupied guest room. Spain was fucking around outside a few days ago, you see, when he stumbled upon a small girl's unconscious body. Being the compassionate nation he is, he felt obligated to take care of her injuries. She was bleeding from her head and hands, and her arms were definitely bruised, as he found out after inspecting further. Romano had suggested to take her to a freaking hospital, however, with them being nations – and thus, not legally registered as citizens in any country – they hadn't an ID nor profile in the legal record for any questions they would have most definitely been asked had they carried the girl into a hospital. Obviously, two unknown men with a young, wounded girl raised many questions, and would probably lead to nothing but trouble.

Given, Romano didn't approve of it in the slightest (Because, hey, what if she was, like, the daughter of a mafia member or something? They may not be as powerful as before, and Romano may be in Spain, not Italy, _also get your mind out of the gutter not in that way_, but they're still absolutely terrifying, and he was NOT willing to take that chance), but while he was bunking with Spain for the next couple months - he switched between the Tomato Bastard and his brother-slash-Potato Bastard's homes – it wasn't really his choice to make, now was it?

Either way, Romano went into the room with the slightly loud slam of the door. He felt... a breeze? Spain surely hadn't opened the window, had he? The Italian nation looked over to the bed, checking on the young lady they'd found before as he mentally scolded the damned Tomato Bastard for wasting the AC, and he-

_Wait a minute._

The bed's blankets were carelessly ripped off of the bed, leaving it messy and, eventfully enough, _empty_. The girl was _gone_. Romano ran out of the room and towards the garden he knew his fine-assed friend would be at.

"Oi, Spain!"

* * *

**Okay, so that's a rap for chapter one. Yes, I did curse that much when I was that age. I was... really angry at the world. I might reveal what happened to really cause that, but it'll be hard since this is something that had actually happened before. I did give a hint at the beginning, though. After the Miku plushie (yes, I really had one that I carried around with me) and during the scene with Zack. First one to guess what happened gets me crying on their virtual shoulder. Good luck! Also, just a warning, it may seem that some characters will be a little OOC, but that's because of my style of writing. It contradicts some of the character's personalities and I'm trying to tip-toe my way around this metaphorical sleeping lion. Anyway, footnotes!**

**(1)– Zack is loosely based off of a real person, with a name-change among other things.**

**(2)-Roughly translates to "Poor girl. I'll come to check on you later. At least your fever has dropped..." If you know Spanish and have a better translation, please tell me so I can update it. I just used SpanishDict.**

**(3) - My Little Pony joke. For those that don't get it, a conversation was held between two ponies, Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie, about a tree. When said tree went unnamed, Pinkie Pie asked "Who, Bloomburg (the tree's name)?". Rainbow Dash replied sarcastically, "No, Fluttershy." The other ponies joined in, thinking she was serious and scolding her for thinking such things. Fluttershy soon interjected, saying "I'd like to be a tree." It's a running joke in the fanbase (and even referenced in the show once or twice) that Fluttershy is a tree. Trust me, it's funnier if you just watch it.**

**(4)-When not in my POV, whatever language characters are speaking will be translated into English for story's sake. ...If that makes sense. Whatever POV it is in when not Story!Me's will be 3rd person focusing on a single country, like how I focused on Romano. This also means I'll be trying to use this character's language and attitude while still being a narrator. Complicated, I know.**

**Lastly, like I said at the beginning, any help with the character's personalities are welcomed! I'm probably going to mess up at some point. I'm also going to include as many countries as possible. Of course, I haven't seen all of them yet, but hopefully I can at least get them in there somewhere. Using only the characters I like is boring!**

**Anyway, See you next time!**


	2. Stupid Spaniards and Irritated Italians

**Ermigerd I just can't even. This chapter is brought to you by C; C for cock-block. Seriously, I have no idea where this is going. I was about to delete this, but I saw it had a favorite, and I had a chapter or two written already, so I decided to just keep going. I have a plot-ish thing forming in my mind, though.**

**Also, I'm going to soon write a huge thing with all my headcanon and AU stuff going on in here, 'cuz it's impossible to write any Hetalia fic without it. Here goes, I guess. /kills self/**

* * *

"Oi, Spain!" Romano yelled, his voice slightly more casual than he would've liked, "Get your ass over here!"

Of course, Spain quickly showed himself. In fact, a little _too_ quickly for Romano's liking. "Wait, were you following me!?"

The accused grinned, "Okay, Lovi! What d'ya need?"

Romano growled, but let the topic go. He knew the Spaniard well enough to know that he wouldn't continue this conversation. "You know that girl?" Spain nodded, "She's gone."

The bomb was dropped so calmly, the elder almost didn't catch it. It took him a minute, but he caught on. The younger stifled a laugh. "Wait, what?"

"Oh, and she left her stuff here, too." The Italian replied, holding up a black backpack. Spain was taken aback by his little Lovi's aloof look on this.

"Lovi, she had a head injury and a fever. She could get seriously sick or hurt!" Said nation rolled his eyes.

Romano knew his mentor wouldn't let this go. Plus, as much as he wouldn't admit it, he did have both a pang of guilt in his chest and a strange curiosity looming around his mind. He couldn't quite place it, but Romano knew there was something off about that girl. "Fine. But you better listen, Tomato Bastard, I am not going any more than 20 meters from this house!"

That did it. "Loviii~! So cute! So cute!" Spain cried, hugging the nation in an all-consuming iron grip. His little Lovi, ah! Heheh, maybe he could do just a little...

"CH-CHIGIIIIII!"

* * *

The sun was high in the sky, however little light seemed to shine down on me. Fuck you, sun. I couldn't see any more houses or anything nearby, and I didn't want to go out in the dark of the small forest I was in. It was... _okay_, I was scared of the dark. Leave me alone, it's not irrational! You can't see in the night, and there are animals and darkness and... _things._

I leaned against a large tree, breathing heavily. My head was pounding, and I felt flushed and drowsy. It was hard to move. I pulled out my cell phone out of my pocket and inspected it. The screen didn't work and it wouldn't turn on. _Fuck. _Now what? I didn't even have a light or anything. To be quite honest, I was fucked.

I heard the sound of a twig crunching and jumped. I let out a yelp. Shit, did they know I was gone already?_ Oh God, Oh God, ohgodohgodohgod..._

I peaked around the trunk to see a head of messy brown hair looking in the other direction. He looked relatively young. Mid to late 20's, maybe? At least he wasn't coming this way. _Not yet, _I hastily thought. Never think hopefully. If you think negatively, you won't be disappointed when shit hits the fan. I sighed; I couldn't move without making noise. I had to wait and hope he left. I was shaking and shaking and I _couldn't take it_ and I reached into my pocket hoping it was still here, and I was screwed, so I could do it one last time, and he was gonna find me and _oh God_, this is it! _I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm-_

I screamed as I felt a hand touch my shoulder. The man was there. He was in front of me and he's looking at me, he's smiling – smiling like a father to his child – and I didn't know what was going to happen. I tried to run when he grabbed the sleeve of my sweatshirt and I turned and _he's looking at me again and watching me shake and silently cry_, and he probably _likes it-_

"¡No corra! No voy a hacerte daño. Tranquilízate. Prometo, está a salvo."(1) He released his hand from my arm and I turned to him. My legs quivered, and I couldn't move. I stared at the man, and he looked at me with a childish face plastered on, like he was 10 and playing tag with me. His eyes were such a bright green, it was almost unnatural. He looked... familiar.

"¿Me entiendes? Usted no necesita tener miedo."(2)

That was Spanish, right? I think so. As my lips stopped shaking I gained the courage to speak. "Uh... um, N-no hablo Español?"

His brows knitted together. I tried again. "Ingles...? Por favor?"

He paused for a second. After a rather unsettling silence, during which I almost pissed myself, he laughed. He _fucking laughed. _He patted my head like my uncle would do when I was younger. Had he no idea how to speak to terrified children? I shied back, almost falling over while doing so. I hoped he would get my message of _Shit, man, get me out of here. You're freaky, I hate you, and I want to go home. Please don't be a kidnapper. Stop touching me._

"Oh, you speak English? Don't worry, I speak that, too! I'm Antonio. I found you outside my house unconscious. You really scared me, I'm glad to see you're okay!"

Wait. _Woah-woah-woah-woah._ Slow down. I wasn't kidnapped? How did I get here? And this guy... He reminded me a little too much of Spain. From Hetalia. Yeah, that one. He said his name was Antonio, and he looks just like him, and _ahhhhh,_ what's going on?!

"Lovi! I found her! Lovi?" Antonio yelled. _Lovi? As in, Lovino? Oh, hellz naw. _He turned to me, smiling again. "What's your name? I don't think you told me."

Do I tell him my real name? Oh, fuck it, he's too idiotic to do me harm. "Brittany. I'm Brittany. Nice to... um, nice to meet you."_ Go die in a ditch, you little fuck, you scared the living shit out of me and I want to go home._

He grabbed by hand and walked forward with the energy of a child, dragging me along with him. Not gonna lie, I was feeling like slitting my throat open then. Seriously, this guy is creepy and it was awkward, and there's still the chance he could be a pedo or something. God knows what he was thinking. Now that I think about it, God forbid I'd find out.

As we approached the door to the tan house, a figure stood in the doorway and waved his hand. "Oi, Tomato Bastard. Inside, now." Antonio and I followed him inside and they sat me down on a rather luxurious plush chair. The pair sat across from me in a matching couch, however the shorter one excused himself quickly and walked away. He gave a _be right back_, but somehow I doubted he'd be back at all. "Tomato Bastard, don't be an idiot while I'm gone."

_Would you like an operation for that stick up your ass, Sir?_

Antonio smiled at me and asked, "Why did you try running away?"

The fact that he said _try_ really crept me out. I shifted, noticing the sudden beauty of my shoes. "Um... I was just scared, y'know? I woke up in a house that I didn't know. I, um, assu_med something bad happened..." _My voice began to fade as I chewed on my nails.

"Oh!" He gasped, as if that didn't occur to him before, "That makes sense~ I found you outside my house and thought you died or something! Lovi told me you were alive, so I put you in the guest room! You sure gave me a scare, mi amigo! Glad to see you're well, though."

If I was injured, why did they take me to a hospital? The Romano doppelgänger came back with a bottle of water and an apple. He held them out to me. "Are you hungry? You were out for a few days, you know."

I jumped, not expecting the offer. I was parched, now that he brought it up... "Th-thank you... um,"

"Lovino." He said, sitting next to Antonio. Lovino and Antonio? I call bullshit. Antonio was hugging the other man, gasping and saying things like _how cute _and _you're adorable! _I gulped down the water faster than an idiom I can't think of. _This is just too... Hetalia. It's freaky._

I quickly moved on to the fruit. Yum, apples. As I took a bite, I dared to ask one of the questions plaguing my mind this entire time. "Ever heard of _Hetalia?_"

They looked at me, thoughtful. Lovino shrugged, "Nope. Why?"

"Just curious. It's, uh, a book I'm reading for school, and I really like it, so..." Okay, seriously. I don't understand why my first instinct is to lie about things. Don't ask me why, 'cuz I can't say myself. I blame my mother. I dared to ask why they didn't take me to a hospital, but I held back. I'm not sure what they'd say. I didn't _want_ to know.

I finished up the apple during the awkward silence. I looked at it in my hands, the pathetic, empty core staring back at me. "Um... thank you, really. For everything... I'm sorry to cause you trouble, and I-"

"Hey, it sounds like you're saying goodbye!" Antonio interjected.

"Well, I should probably go home. I called my dad before," _Juuust kidding_, "and he wanted me home and all that, so..."

Antonio nodded, smiling his stupid smile, "Ah, okay~! I can drive you home! I'd love too!" Lovino elbowed him, mentioning _reading the atmosphere_ and _she's obviously uncomfortable around us. _I silently thanked him; he wasn't stupid, thank God.

"Um, I'd appreciate the ride..."

"Oh. Okay! You live in San Sebastián, right?" The Spaniard responded.

"Yes."_ lol no. _

"Alright," This time it was Lovino, "Go get your things. It's about a ten minute ride there. Where is San Sebastián do you live?"

Aw, fuck. "Uh, just drop me off wherever. I like walking."

This seemed to satisfy them, so I quickly left to grab my things. _Thank you, God, for making these people fucktards._

With Miku in my arms and my light bag over my shoulder, I jumped into the car and shut the door gently. I shifted slightly and hugged my plushie tighter, like she was my lifeline. I was going to go home soon. I can find a payphone or something in the city, call home, and be on my merry way. I'll get these weirdos out of my life... I'm really getting creeped out with their obsession with Hetalia. Like, seriously, it's unnatural.

The thought tugged my lips up. For the first time, I was _happy_ to go home.

Romano tried his hardest to stare at the girl in the rear-view mirror without getting caught. She was... off, to say the least. She gave off an alien feeling, like she was a ghost or something. He didn't like it. She obviously has issues; he was the one to wrap the bandages around her arms. There were burn marks, scars, and anything else you can imagine lingering on them. They clearly weren't as new as the injury on her head. He almost wanted to ask her about them, but it wasn't his place to do so. Hell, they'd just formally met an hour or so ago. He could care less, though.

Still, a small bit of guilt tugged at his chest, like she wasn't to be left alone. He pushed it away without difficulty.

"We're here!" Spain sang, grinning. "Are you sure you're okay, Brittany?" She curtly nodded, muttering a _thank you for everything _and nearly sprinting away on the sidewalk. The Spaniard clearly didn't notice her odd behavior, but Romano hadn't a problem in doing so. She clutched that weird Japanese doll of hers and didn't stop running until she couldn't be seen. Yes, something was clearly wrong here.

The car sped off, with not a word spoken from the thoughtful Romano or the cheerful Spain.

* * *

**(1) "Don't run! I'm not going to hurt you. Just calm down. I promise, you are safe."**

**(2) "Do you understand? You don't need to be scared."**

**Okay, that's a rap. I do have some plot bunnies scattering about in my mind, now that it's been about three days from the intro up top. I already have the next few chapters written down, but I need to type them. Also, no worries, Story!Me won't be on her own for too long. This is a Hetalia fic, after all. Hetalia characters must be in there somewhere! Hint: the next character she'll meet up with has blonde hair. (That's about half the cast. Have fun guessing)**

**Also, not to shamelessly self-advertise, but I have a journal up on my deviantART. It's really important to me as a person if you'd give your opinion on it. It's the one called "Wow, I'm Active... Also Personal Stuff"**

**Thanks, guys. Also, any little stories or anything you want to be included in this as little sections in later chapters are welcome. Maybe something I could fit within the length of the section in Romano's POV. **

**Oh, one last thing: If I included any details about me that don't seem realistic, tell me and I'll double-check to make sure they're all _real_ 11-year-old me's traits. This is a self-insert, so I gotta make sure it's 100% me!**


	3. Lost and Found and Lost

**Note – this contains self-harm. Sorry for spoiling, but I'd know from experience that reading about cutting yourself gives some people urges. Do not read if you are sensitive to this! I'm warning you. In case you wish to not read the self-harming part, but want to continue reading this story, a border of asterisks (these things ******) will be shown between the scenes. When you see it, skip over until you see it again. It borders the scene. Please, if you are sensitive, do not read it! I know how you feel, but don't do it. Please.**

**Also long chapter is long. Sorry about that, but this chapter establishes the plot and explores the emotional struggles Story!Me will face along the way.**

_Alright... so where the hell am I?_

I trudged down the sidewalk of a large city that, quite frankly, scared me. What did Antonio call this place? San Sebastian? I've never heard of it. Tall buildings were scattered about the place with a few small apartments and the like here and there. The streets were bustling; it was crowded and obnoxious voices lingered in the air, giving my headache even more to worry about.

I was starting to get pre-panic jitters. I tried my best to calm down as a walked, but I just kept shaking. I retreated to a shallow alleyway in between a few buildings, rubbing my temples with a hand. The pain in my head was unbearable. I yanked the bandage on my head off, causing me to bite my lip due to the sudden pressure. Blood covered the back of my head in dried clumps. I started to pull some out, but I couldn't keep it up; it hurt much too badly. I thought for a minute. _I could've died. I'm in a place I don't know, I was found by a couple of Hetalia-obsessed weirdos, everyone speaks Spanish... I probably have a concussion... I don't even know how I got here._

As I started to hyperventilate, I slid onto my knees and just tried to remain calm. _Calm, calm, calm... It'll be alright. You'll be home soon, and Sis will make sure you're fine - __which you_ will _be, by the way__ – and you can pretend it was all a dream. _

I was still a bit excited, but I managed to slow my breath back to a normal pace. I stood back up; I needed to keep looking around if I wanted a way out of here. Just keep walking, don't think. Don't think...

As I was looking around, I found a small building that looked rather homely. It had a sign with something written on it.

Okay, that wasn't as stupid as it sounds, I swear. It had... _something_ written on it. I couldn't read it, but I assumed it was the new _habla Espanol _trend that was going around in this area. Of course, since me no habla Espanol, I had no idea what it meant. I decided to step in.

I was met with a rather pretty little cafe; it was colored with calming brown tones that really pleased my eyes. Looking around, I decided to sit in a small little chair in a corner, just to sit down while I think about what to do. I opened my bag and stuffed my hand in it. I had a bag of chips or something in there, right? _C'mon..._

I pulled out a small pack of Lay's. Yum. I munched on the slightly stale snack in thought. I had no idea where I was. I was scared, confused, and I wanted help. _I'm just so... useless. Everyone at home is probably worried sick and I can't even tell them_. _I'm doing nothing but causing grief. I can barely help myself! I can't do this kind of shit! I just... I just-_

I paused when I saw dark spots on my jeans. Was I crying? I wiped my eyes; Yeah, my hand is wet. I was crying. _In public. _

_No... I'm such a wuss! I can't do this! I just- I can't- Oh, God.._.

I ran into the restroom, swiftly locking myself in a stall. I pulled my feet up and curled into a ball.

_Calm down, shhh, it'll be okay._

No, you deserve this. You're an idiot! You should do this.

_No, I won't. I'm better than that! I can... I can do this!_

It's the only thing that'll make you tougher.

…

_...I'll do it._

I reached into my pocket and pulled _it_ out. _It_ smelled like metal. _It_ was splotched with red and brown – marks matching my own fluid.

I pulled my sweatshirt and the bandages up, giving _it_ room to perform. _It _kissed my arm, sending a small wave of pain up my body. _It_ kissed me again lovingly, apologizing.

_It'll be okay._

_It _danced across the stage beautifully, leaving pained footsteps in it's wake. Pouring, pouring out, raining on the platform and staining it red. _It_ wouldn't stop. I kept watching, not flinching anymore when _it_ waltzed around the stage. _It_ started crying. _It's_ tears drip, drip, dripped onto the floor. My own tears fell with it. Residue from the performance washed my arm in a sick red color. _It_ had finished.

I silently put _it _back in my pocket and looked down at my wrist.

_Oh God. I just cut myself again._

By the time a calmed down and left the cafe, it was night. I threw away the bandages on my wrist; I didn't need it anymore. My eyes were puffy and red, and I felt like throwing up. I probably would've if I had anything in my stomach. I want to go home.

I sat outside the cafe in a small alley between it and the next building. I tried to think up of something to do, _anything_ to do. I let out a breath, resting my head on my backpack. I'm thirsty. I miss my siblings. I miss Dad. I looked up at the night sky.

"What do I do, Miku? Whatever God is out there? Is this some kind of... I don't know... lesson?"

Melodramatic, I know. But I really did think I was never going to go home. I had no place to stay, nothing to eat, and I was probably going to get killed or raped if I stayed out here on the streets like this!

Sitting up, I leaned against the dumpster standing next to me. _Tch._ Fuck you, world. I hate everything enough already. What, are you trying to tell me something? Maybe I should've gone a bit deeper on my wrist, is that it? Why the hell did you make me just to fuck me over? Maybe next time... maybe next time I will.

I was crying again. I sat there, unable to calm myself down this time. When I tried to silence my crying, I just kept shaking and hiccuping with tears just pouring out – I didn't know what was going on. I never cried like this before. It was like there was something inside me, inside my heart. It kept forcing my tears up. I know it sounds cheesy, but it really did feel that way. Like I was forced to feel this way, my whole mind being _forced_ to expel all this sadness.

I fell asleep soon after I started the waterworks, unable to scape up enough energy to keep going.

* * *

"For the last time, quit following me! I didn't come here to be anywhere near you!"

I jumped at the sound of something I recognized. Oh my freaking Jesus Grandma(1), _English!_ Beautiful, beautiful English! I peaked my head past the dumpster I'd taken a nap next to, and I saw two silhouettes standing right at the mouth of the small alley. It was still do dark to see; I couldn't make out any features, but they both were somewhat slender. One held... a book, I think. He was looking down at it, mumbling something under his breath.

"I didn't come here to be with you, little black sheep! I came to see why you were all the way down in _Spain _for something. It must be important~!"

...I-I'm sorry, sir? Did you just say _Spain_? I assumed he meant some small town I never heard of... right?

"It's exactly as I said before! It's none of your business, and you should get away from me, you barmy little git!" The other yelled with a rather thick English accent, stepping into the alley. _No no no, go away, go away! Shoo!_

As he was getting closer, I could hear what he was mumbling. It sound like... Latin, I think? I slowly peaked around to see him very close to me, his nose still glued to the book. There was – I shit you not – A _fire_ glowing in his free hand. Like, a full-on green flame dancing around in his palm. "Whatever it is should be right here, unless the spell is botched..."

He passed right by me, not noticing I was there. Now let's just stay incognito a little while longer... Just breathe, now... in, out... in, out...

_HOLY SHIT SOMETHING JUST TOUCHED ME-_

I looked up to see the man with the book looking down at me, a matching hand resting on my collarbone. I pushed him off and used my backpack as a shield. _I'm not going down without a fight, you bastard!_

Closing my eyes, I prepared for a blow to the head or a kick in the face or something – however, it never came. "Excuse me, little lady?"

I peaked up at the sweet tone of his voice. Was he not going to hurt me or anything? I tried to let out a reply, but my voice wouldn't leave my throat. I lowered my bag a little, allowing my eyes and nose to be seen. His face was illuminated by the light of the flame, however it was still a challenge to see. He was... familiar. My memory tugged at my mind to get me to remember who he reminded me of, but I couldn't find it. His eyes were an unnaturally vibrant green, and his blonde hair was styled rather wildly. _Then again, I'm not really one to talk, with my hair sticking out like a giant brown fuzzball and all..._

"It's okay, I'm not going to do anything bad to you." His voice had a calming charm to it, and it really soothed me. I silently stared at him and his crazy green flame. He backed up slightly, noticing my discomfort. "I'd like to have a quick word with you, if that's alright. I'm Arthur Kirkland." He stuck a hand out.

I stared at it for a minute before realizing he wanted to shake my hand. My voice was free as I spoke this time, "B-Brittany..." I mumbled. He was nice... I liked him.

He flashed a small, amused smile at my name, like it was special to him. "Is that right? Hm... this is no place to talk. Come with me, let's take a stop at the cafe."

I slowly stood up, ignoring the slight pain in my head. "Um, okay..." Throwing my backpack over a shoulder, I followed him as he put his... uh, fire away. It just kinda went _poof_.

Arthur Kirkland... Arthur Kirkland? England? _Hetalia? Fuck this, I'm out. I am so done. Crazy creepy cosplayers and their crazy costumes, and-_

"Ohonhonhon, who is this? I didn't think you were _that_ kind of man~!" A voice called from in front of... Arthur, was it? He walked up to me and touched my shoulder.

_Stranger danger, stranger danger, stranger danger!_

"Get your hand off her, you git. And no, I am _not_ that kind of man. Quit your annoying talk and bug off." Arthur growled, peeling his hand off of me. _Thank-you, O' merciful one! _"And quit following me like a lost dog. Don't you have your own affairs to attend to?"

The creepy guy shrugged. "Nothing quite as great as this, little Black Sheep!" I noticed his accent was a rather thick French one. Are you freaking serious? France cosplay? "Bonjour, little one. I am Francis; It is a pleasure." He took my hand and kissed it lightly. I pulled my hand back and looked down, trying to cover my reddened face. _Holy shit, not only did he touch me, but he kissed my hand!__ Stop! For the __love of all things unholy and damned, get away from me!_

I ran to Arthur, a little too embarrassed than what I thought should be possible. I shrank behind him in a pathetic attempt to hide from Creepy Flamboyant Guy. Seriously, don't invade my personal space. _Then again, I'm invading Arthur's... but it was to avoid stranger danger... so it's all good, right? _"Quit it, you're scaring her." Said British man scolded.

"Oh, was I?" Creepy France-y McGee, or, shall I say _Francis_, replied, "I apologize, I didn't mean to scare you with my charm~"

_...Ew._

Arthur, once again, came to my rescue, "...Let's just go, shall we? Come on now, don't be scared." I nodded, silently following him around the corner and into the cafe. Arthur was really, really nice. Sure, he was a bit Hetalia obsessed, but maybe there was a con or something? And the Spain and Romano guys were in on it, too? Either way, he wasn't scary, so I like him. He quickly found a seat and ushered me to follow. I sat down, and he asked me if a wanted anything. "Perhaps some tea?"

"Um, yes, thank-you..." ...What? Tea is amazing! You don't need to be British to like it. Arthur quickly ordered some and he brought it to me. "Thank-you very much, Mr. Arthur." I took a sip and smiled into the cup. It was good; It tasted a bit like mint.

"Ah, it's no problem. May I ask you a few questions?"

I nodded, "Uh, yes. Go ahead."

"Thank you. First of all, this may sound a bit far-fetched, but do you believe in magic?" My mind flashed back to the flame in his hand before. Wait...

"I dunno... Wait, what was with that fire in your hand before? Are you trying to tell me...?"

He smiled, a bit of smugness in it, "I know it sounds rather strange, but yes. That was, in fact, magic. It was... it was a spell that helped me find you."

_...lolwut. _

Alright, let's just keep calm, Brittany. You used to mess around with magic-y stuff with... _him_ when you were little, right? Let's roll with it.. "Uh... _me._..? Am I in trouble?"

"Er, no, not exactly. It's a rather complicated affair. Either way, that flame was magic. You see," He paused, trying to find the right things to say, "I, as a magic user, am very sensitive to energy. Energy is what makes the world work, you see. There's a special kind of energy that people like me can tap into to use what we call magic. However, a little less than a week ago, the energy of the earth has had an odd spike, which may lead to a wide variety of... _issues._" He strained the word like it was his red-headed step child, "By using that flame from before, I found the source of the energy spike. It was... well, it was you."

No-no-no-no-no. Sir, no. All of my no. "_I-I'm sorry_?! Did I mishear you?"

"I'm afraid not. And no, I am not any sort of looney. You saw the spell before, and if you so please, I can show you another one."

I couldn't hold my thoughts in my mind as they spilled out, "_Oh, if you insist..._"

He gave me a slightly frustrated look. I coughed. "_Ahem_... Erm, that was nothing. But, uh, are you sure? Because... I think I'm just a normal 11-year-old kid..." Arthur's eyes widened slightly.

"You're that young?" He paused, and continued with an odd pace, "But that's not what we're here to discuss. This energy spike that has happened will lead to a lot of trouble. I need to find a solution, and since you seem to be the cause..."

"...You need me in order to find the solution." I finished. He nodded in reply. Well, I mean, I don't have any place to go. This guy could be my ticket home! I had to try. He was really nice, too! Maybe he'd keep me or something. That'd be even better than going home. "...Alright. Where do we start?"

He stared at me, somewhat surprised. "Why, it's not that simple. You have your own life to live, as do I. You should probably go home and rest. I'm sure this is a lot of news to hear, Brittany."

"Yeah, about that... I don't really have a place to go for now. I, um... I don't have any place to go. I don't even know where I am."

"Y-you mean... are you homeless?"

"N-no! It's not that!"_ At least, I hope not. _"I just... w_okeuphereafewdaysago... _Um, y'know, with_ noideahowIgothere..." _

A sideways glance stared at me back. "What exactly do you mean by that?"

"I was leaving my school when... some stuff happened," I replied, skipping out the whole Zack-talking-to-me part, "and... something happened. I don't remember what, the last thing I recall is running towards the stairs. After that, I just fell in front of some couple of guys' house with a bleeding head and he took care of me until I was well enough to walk around." ...Also skipped the I-thought-I-was-kidnapped-by-Hetalia-cosplayers, since Arthur seemed to be one himself, "They dropped me off here, assuming I lived here, but I don't even know where _here_ is."

"Well, first things first, you're in San Sebastian."

I was quick to reply. "Never heard of it."

"...Northern Spain?"

"N-North... What?" I gasped, trying to think this out. _He's joking. He's gotta be joking. This ain't funny, Arthur. _"No, don't joke about that. I was in America... In New Jersey...(2)"

He tensed, but tried to keep his frown from showing. I felt my stomach cave in. Was this really true? Arthur wouldn't lie, would he? He's too nice! "It's no joke, love. Have you read a single sign here? It's Spanish. You were in the States, you say?" I nodded, and he continued, "Well... teleportation in an option... but that wouldn't explain the energy burst. Listen, Brittany, why don't you call home? I'm sure your family must be absolutely terrified for you."

...Oh. Okay. "Um, can I call globally from your cell phone? Mine isn't working." Before I finished speaking, he handed it to me. It was pretty fancy. Touch screen and stuff? Lucky. "Oh, um, thank-you!" I tapped in my home phone and called.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_ ...Oops.

I tried again, double checking the number. Yeah, it was right.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_

...No, it was right! I saw it! _You_ check again, computer-generated voice! Fuck you. I punched in my Dad's cell number instead. We didn't use the home phone anyway, maybe he canceled the number?

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again." _

Again.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again." _

Again! _Again, again, again, again!_

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_

Sis? Sis will answer me! Big Sis is better, anyway.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again." _

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_

I felt tears welling up. What the living hell? Maybe _her_ number was working? I jammed my fingers on the screen, nearing panic. Please, please, please! Do something good for once!

"_Hello?"_

I nearly screamed into the phone, "Mom? Mom, it's me! It's Brittany! I... I-I'm safe, okay? I'm sorry for worrying you!"

"_...Who is this?"_

"M-Mom?" My voice cracked. I looked at the number I typed in. It was her number!

"_Hello?"_

That wasn't even her voice.

"_Are you still there?"_

I hated her, but at least she was a connection to home.

"_I'm sorry, I believe you have the wrong nu-"_

The phone fell from my hands and landed on the floor. Ignoring Arthur's question of_ are you okay, _I picked up the phone and punched in every number over again.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again." "The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again." "The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_

No. No no no no. No. I punched in my Dad's number again. It rang.

And rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Until I heard a noise.

"Dad! Dad? _Dad_!?"

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"_The number you have called is unavailable or is not in use. Please check to see you have entered the correct number and try again."_

* * *

**(1)From JoshJepson on Youtube.**

**(2)This is not where I really live**


	4. Nostalgia of a Nation

**I got tired of 1st person, so in most of this it's 3rd. I'm better at it anyway.**

**Blame the mafia.**

**After all that plot, this focuses on the emotions of the current characters... and more plot.**

**Plotplotplotplotplotplotplot.**

**Also I'm having writers block on my FMA guide fic so I'm turning to this until I can scrape up inspiration**

* * *

"It's like... it's like they never existed. I know I typed it in right, I tried my home phone, my dad's phone, my big sister's phone, and even..." The girl paused, "Even my _mother's_ phone." She held back the tears stinging her eyes. She refused to cry; it wouldn't solve the problem, and it just made her look worse. "I don't know what's going on."

The elder looked at her, stunned. They tried again and again and again, and there was no way either had made a mistake. They had even gone online to check Facebook for the girl's sister. There was nothing.

There was absolutely no evidence that they ever existed from what they could tell.

"Brittany," The blonde began, "This is probably from the energy levels malfunctioning. Many things stem from it. If – _when_ – we get this problem solved, they'll be fine. I'm sure of it." In response, said child indiscreetly rubbed the saltwater leaking from her eyes and looked up.

"They'll be back then, right?" A nod. "_Promise?_" Another bobbing of the head. The girl let out a breath she was holding. She'd heard enough lies to differ them from the truth. His eyes were glowing with sincerity. After all, a promise is a _promise_.

"So, should I just stay in that alley for the meantime?" The whites in her eyes couldn't hide it; they were red and swollen, a great contrast to the blue-gray her irises held. Arthur could barely look at her. She looked just like... _him._ The first child he'd taken care of, the great joy the Brit held in his heart remembering the happy times they had together. Teaching him, playing with him...

_And how badly it all ended._

The rain that poured, the kind blue eyes he once knew – they shone with a different light, the light of ambition, and a hint of sadness. Arthur had only himself to blame for all that pain they both felt. He regretted everything that happened that day with all his heart. The child had chose him over that frog-faced rival of his! And what did the English man do in return? He became possessive of him. He wanted freedom – that was it. And Arthur had wanted _nothing_ of it.

Maybe this, the girl shown before him; With the same eyes, wide and nervous like the crashing ocean waves surrounding his homeland, and the same unkempt hair like a lost fawn's tanned fur... it was a second chance. _His_ second chance. He knew what it was like to lose family... In a different way, of course; but they both felt alone. He felt he could renew his spirit by making sure she stayed well.

This was his chance to end his life as a surrogate parent on good terms.

"I'd be willing to take you in until after this is all taken care of." Arthur's mouth moved without his asking; it was instinct. He didn't quite mind it. He finally gained the courage to look at her eyes. The waves had calmed down; the storm was settling into a more peaceful blue. Relief, was it? Yes, just relief... but Arthur thought of it as a first step.

"R-really? Are you sure? I mean, I wouldn't want to cause you anymore trouble, and – and, um..." Brittany struggled to find the correct words to say. She_ wanted _this, she knew she did, but there was a tugging feeling in her chest telling her this was bad, that it would lead to problems. Something inside the man before her was reaching out, a dark shadow as opposed to the light he emitted.

He replied with a smile, sending a warm feeling fluttering in her chest, like she was safe. She knew this was the right thing to do, no matter _what_ happened. Whether it was her gut feeling, or her naivety of being but 11, she wasn't sure. "Absolutely. It'd be no trouble at all," Arthur chimed, "In fact, I live in a rather large house in England, and there's plenty of room for another person. While we take care of this issue, I can make sure you're well taken care of."

"You'd really do that?"

"Naturally." he returned, "A gentleman such as myself could never leave a young lady on her own." He gave a small grin. He got a matching smile in return.

"Really? Thank you _so_ much!"

* * *

After a rather lighthearted discussion about family life with a bit of talk over Francis' creepiness sliding in, Brittany closely followed her new surrogate parent out of the cafe and to a close by parking area. She looked... happy. Like a burden had been taken off her shoulders. As they walked, they found it easy to speak to one another.

"Where'd Mr. Francis go, anyway?" She asked, continuing their past discussion.

"Knowing him, he's probably gone off to visit a friend who lives nearby." The European replied, nonchalantly trying to drop the conversation. He'd rather not speak about the frog-faced little git.

"He's scary."

"As long as you don't end up in a room alone with him, he's harmless." The Brit let out a puff of air. His rival really wasn't a bad person. On the contrary, he's raised a child before and is probably better than himself at dealing with them. He wasn't about to admit that, though.

Little did he know, the child already knew this. The unnoticed glint in her eyes had hinted at it. ...That really wouldn't stop her from being crept out, however.

Arthur gestured to a rather flashy car, causing a gasp to erupt from the child's throat. "Wha- I mean- izzat a limousine!?"

"Indeed. Step in," The Englishman replied, opening a door. She climbed in with Arthur following. It was rather modest on the inside. Soft gray walls and seats made a calming place to sit in. With a quick word from Arthur, the driver had begun taking the vehicle to the streets. "Brittany, there's been something I wanted to ask you about." The blonde said.

"Yes, what is it?"

"Before, you seemed very anxious when talking about your mother. Any reason why?"

_That's one of three questions you should never ask me, _the girl nearly said, but decided would be fairly inappropriate. "Let's just leave it at the fact that she's not a very good mother," she settled for, taking a glance out the darkly tinted window, "I'll fill you in later. It's nothing bad, like abuse or anything. She's just... eh."_ ...Now let's see how long it takes him to ask the others. He's smart, I'll give him that, but if he wants me to go into details, I'm bailing._

"Fair enough. What is your life like?"

"Uh, it was average... I just, uh, got sick this year and fell behind in classes. I couldn't make everything up in time and I had to make it up in summer school." Brittany said, biting the inside of her already blood-coated cheek. A nervous habit that sent shivers down her spine when she tasted red copper on her tongue. She hid the scrunched face she made at the first drop hitting a taste bud. _You need to stop lying. It wasn't even anything serious. _"Other than that, my life is pretty good." _Not entirely a lie, _"My Dad's really cool, he always does things with me." _Lies._ "My big sis is awesome! She always get me to try on clothes, and I don't really like it, but other then that she's all I could ever ask for in a sister. My brother is amazing, too. We bond over stories and video games and stuff. My siblings are my b- um, my friends." _Not lies._

Arthur knew there was something off. Her eyes darkened and stared right into his eyes like she was trying to etch into his mind was she was saying. When she brought up her siblings, she started smiling and looking out the window until she stuttered. He let it go; it must have been a touchy subject. They continued idle chitchat in the vehicle as Arthur felt a bit too nostalgic. How long would it be until this problem blows over? Would he have to explain the real problems that will come? Explain who, or more so what, he is?

He knew he'd have to. Somehow, he couldn't quite face it then. Was this a normal human's life? It was nice. It's a shame it wouldn't last. As the girl beside him ranted on about games and other things, Arthur was rather spacey to the chat and became lost in thought. He mentally went over the facts of the problem at hand. It was the 2nd of July, correct? That means he'd probably have to find a solution before-

His eyes widened, slowly coming to a horrifying realization:

_It's almost July 4th._

* * *

Brittany looked up at the slim, but large pale blue jet in front of her, mouth wide with shock. "Mr. Arthur, are you rich or something? You didn't tell me you had a flippin' _jet_!"

Said man looked up in slight amusement with her, but soon glanced elsewhere with a faraway look in his eyes. "Well, that's one way to put it, I suppose. Let's climb on, shall we?"

And so, they did.

"This is fancier than my house!" Blue eyes scanned the length of the inside rooms in surprise. To her, the honey-colored walls shone a rich gold, the floors, to anyone else's eyes a rather plain brown, turned into a stunning dark chocolate-amber. "This is so awesome!" Arthur gave a laugh with a hint of bitterness in it. It didn't go unnoticed, "Is something the matter?"

He sighed. He'd have to explain it to her sooner than later. "It's a bit hard to explain, and a bit of a secretive subject." He was given a shrug.

"If you don't wanna tell me, that's okay."

"It's more so I _need_ to tell you. Listen, you are aware of the many countries on earth, correct?" She gave a subtle nod. _Where is Arthur going with this? _"Well, based off of the cultures and interests a given nation's people have adapted to, a, er... a personification of the country is born." Instead of the expected _are you crazy, or is it drugs_ he expected, she stared at him with recognition.

"Hetalia-obsessed cosplayers!_ I knew it!_" She cried. He stared, giving her a rather awkward glance. Hadn't Japan mentioned something of cosplay? He couldn't quite recall what it meant. "Er, inside joke?"

"Uh, alright then. Do you understand?" She nodded with vigor, a sudden change of attitude."So, how exactly do I say this? I am one of these personifications. My name is England."

* * *

Did he just say what I thought he said? _Did he just say what I thought he said!? _"Uh... Okay."

"I can very well understand if you aren't believing me, but it can't be helped. I wouldn't quite believe myself either."

My mouth moved and my throat vibrated without thought, "Well, I did see a flame in your hand a while ago, so I guess at this point, it shouldn't be surprising..." Yeah, that was a lie. I mean, it was a bit strange to be a coincidence. Spain-lookalike named Antonio and Romano-lookalike named Lovino. I mean, even their features were spot-on. You can't get a curl to stick up like that without hair gel, and I didn't smell it. I'm allergic to with chemical fumes; I'd have been coughing up a storm if he used it. And then Francis and Arthur...

Now that I looked at him, his eyebrows _were_ rather thick. _But... I mean, I..._

I cleared my throat, "So, uh, what're we gonna do to start fixing this, Mr. Ar- er, Mr. England?" He thought for a moment, looking down at his feet. His eyes narrowed.

"I'm not quite sure. This has happened once before, but under very different circumstances."

"...Oh," I said dumbly, not quite sure how to reply, "Why don't you ask some other nations? Maybe they'll know what to do." _Whoop whoop,_ world conference. I'll believe he's England when I see an Asian with a giant pan-thing, a Russian sitting in a haunted chair, and all those other lovely Hetalia characters.

"I'd have to call an emergency world meeting. I'd have to go through my boss to do so, and even if he accepts, he'd have to get the message to all the other countries. It would take at least two weeks, and I plan to have this fixed by then."

"Even so, wouldn't you want to inform everyone what happened and make a plan so it won't happen again?"

He let out a breath, "Fine. I can't make any promises, but if you're so insistent, I'll at least try." I tried to hide my amusement. _What a pushover!_

"Izzit okay if I go to sleep for a little bit? I'm really tired." On cue, my throat let out a rather loud yawn. In response, he gave me a bittersweet smile.

"Go ahead. I'll wake you up when we land."

I pulled Miku out of my bag and started dozing off. Today was a long day.

_Maybe I'll wake up to my bed at home; this was all too crazy..._

It was a simple trip off the jet, into a more humble car than the limousine, and to England's current place of residence. Currently, Brittany was sitting at a beautiful mahogany table with her current caretaker and permanent resident of the house, discussing magic.

"A simple solution to this problem would be for you to use up your excess magic by using spells until it is all used up. The problem is, not many people are able to harness it; it's much more than waving your hand and mumbling a spell. You have to know what you intend to do, what you need to do it, and how to do it." _It'll be a slim chance, but if it works, maybe it will just blow over..._

"Great, it's _Fullmetal Alchemist_ now." Seeing the look she was given in response, the younger waved a hand wildly, trying to fix the awkwardness before it started. "Inside joke."

"_Yes, you seem to have quite a few of those._" England let the comment slip out, earning a rather nasty glare from the girl. He was actually rather startled; her eyes had frozen over into a cold stare that someone so young shouldn't manage. It almost made him uncomfortable. "Anyway, a good way to see if you can use it is by reading this book. If you can comprehend this, it should be easy to use magic. I have to do some paperwork and give my boss a ring, so I'll be back in a little while. Just sit tight until then, alright?" Pulling out a book, he flipped to the beginning and slid it towards his guest.

"Mm-hm," Brittany replied, looking down at the rather large manual in front of her. She silently scanned the page in thought, slowly losing confidence as she kept going. After England's footsteps had dissipated and she knew he was out of earshot, she huffed. "Does he really expect me to read this? I can't make heads or tails of it. Seriously, this is coming from the girl who reads textbooks for fun. _Textbooks!_ Oh, I'm talking to myself again. I should probably stop. Wait, saying that isn't helping. Neither is that. ...Okay, I'm done."

England wasn't a fool. He knew this wouldn't be solved so easily. He went over the current facts in his mind, huffing out a held breath as he thought of solutions. He pulled out his phone, pulling up his boss' number. As much as he hated his boss and how much control said man had over him, England was reluctant to admit that he probably couldn't handle everything the guy did.

Last time energy levels had gone out of control, it was a lot different. Although the solution did take a while to figure out, innocent people weren't involved. There wasn't a life at stake, and at this point England knew the past solution wouldn't work this time.

* * *

"_You are ready, right? Although you're a nation, you won't be able to live again in this state. You will be reincarnated into a different nation; your memories will be gone and you will start anew. The nation you represent will not be able to keep it's state in this war without you."_

"_I have shared my goodbyes. It's either I stay alive and these people wreak havoc, or I die and the rest of the world lives at peace. It is not a hard choice. My people are strong; they do not need to be in my empire to thrive. I will not be gone; history never forgets. I will be in the mind of people everywhere."_

"_...Fair enough," The blonde replied. His mind melted in his head, blocking his ears, drowning his clouded emerald eyes, and burning his stiffened lips. His brain had turned into a hot fog. What was he to say?_

_Father Time had become shocked, slowing all the earth to a screeching halt. Even the Gods hadn't wanted this, but slowing time couldn't take back what happened. The man with the blade in hand couldn't bear to look; the small nation in front of him still looked so small, so innocent. His eyes, his narrowed blue irises that once stood wide with pride and passion like the seas the pirates sailed had darkened and shrunk into narrow rivers, filled with knowledge and regret._

_It was like he couldn't decide whether he was a child or a nation._

_England brought the weapon down with his neck twisted away in disgust. He'd killed before; his gut could handle the liquid sprayed out before him. He couldn't handle the being the blood was spilled out of._

"_I'm sorry." ...Was that the right thing to say? Was it really what he thought?_

_The air around the corpse before him held the body close. He was truly dead. His body was consumed by the hungry winds, melting into air and leaving England alone, the only way to know this was still happening being the crying, screaming floorboards beneath his feet._

* * *

England knew what happened. The cause of the energy imbalance was swapping bodies. Even if he had the heart, or lack thereof to kill the child, it wouldn't solve the issue permanently.

As he was discussing the meeting with his boss on the phone, he silently thought about what exactly was happening. _I really need to tell her what she'll be getting into._

_I'll have it fixed before that will become a problem._

_Stop fooling yourself. You're just trying to turn her into a second America! This isn't the same at all! __Lives are at stake here; you can't leave her thinking this is all safe!_

England's mind was once again clouded with confusion. He kept speaking like nothing was wrong to his boss, but it felt like he'd but his body on an autopilot. His mind was at war with itself. Should he take the easy way out and make this the perfect chance to redeem himself, or face the truth and let the danger be known? It was a beautiful lie or an ugly truth. To be quite honest, they were both equally as appealing. But he had time to think about it, right? It had taken a week for the full effects to come into play last time. He most definitely had a day or so to pretend everything was alright.

Colorful eyes bored into England's neck with a smile from behind; the Brit was far to lost in his thoughts to notice the figure slipping through the door behind him with the dexterity of a feline, purring with delight all the while.

_See you soon, Artie!_

The window of the room behind England slid open from the force of strong, pale hands. The elegant butterfly knife on the nation's desk was nicked off it's resting place by an iron grip and was slipped into a pocket. With a stifled giggle, the mad shadow had jumped out to the ground from the second story with no problem. _Time to regroup! With the new piece in play, things will end up much more interesting!_

About twenty minutes and five fruitlessly read pages later, Brittany had, quite frankly, given up. The book sat it front of her quietly, seemingly taunting her. She wasn't a bad reader, and although not the brightest crayon in the box, she wasn't _stupid_; it was just another joke by Fate to take her ability to comprehend this. After a two minute session of banging her head on the table in anger, she stood up, sighing. "Yeah, screw this, I'm out."

She walked to a rather modest living room with a set of two tan couches and a matching loveseat. She dived onto a seat, laying on her stomach. She sighed. _I'm going to sleep again. This is stupid. Stuff about self-awareness and peace of mind... bleh. I thought I was gonna cast spells, not read church-in-a-book._

She had snatched her rather gaudy plush toy off of the nearby table and snugly rested on the couch with it in her arms. She felt a bit silly; she couldn't sleep without it. She really wasn't able to keep up her thoughts, however, as the calling of dreams beckoned her to just relax and let time flow by without a care. Hey, it was something anyone would take; she really wasn't one to refuse such an offer.

Soon after she'd fallen asleep, a rather tired England had stepped into the living room to head for the girl he'd left with the book. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a balled up figure on his loveseat.

How... _sweet._

He let memories of America fill his mind again. The time was past midnight; it was July 3rd now. Tomorrow it would be the day he lost something precious to him. Grabbing a small blanket, he covered up the resting girl before he let his emotions get the better of him; _not again._ He wouldn't fail; she'll be safe and happy, and this time he'd know when she had to sped up the stairs, not bothering to clean up his papers on the desk or to dress into clothes for sleep – it took all of his will to not burst into tears or drink his problems away this time. He had another chance. He had _her_ now. Not again. This year would be different. He'd stay strong this year.

"_You used to be so... great."_

...Maybe he could cry a little bit, couldn't he?


	5. Pancakes are Normality

**Hey, the beginning mentions this song, so take a listen if you want! Just remove the spaces: www. youtube / watch?v=mhuCtff8KzI**

* * *

It was peaceful in the residence of England. The owner of the house had just fallen asleep after preparing a spare room for his unexpected guest, and quite frankly, he was _exhausted_. The last few days had been stretched out by Father Time; his week was worn-out clay in a child's hands. With shadows under his emeralds, he finally shut his eyelids. The man was quite tranquil for what seemed to be the first time in ages.

Downstairs, Brittany was having a lovely dream of eating a variety of colorful treats with her younger brother. The stereo in front of them played her favorite song. It was in Japanese, yes, but she still sang along. Her brother didn't seem to mind her horrible off-key singing, as he nibbled on a chocolate bar without complaint.

_Happy Synthesizer kimi no  
mune no oku made  
todoku you na merodi kanaderu yo_

Brittany waved her arms around and giggled as the instrumental break started.

_BANG! BANG BANG BANG!_

...Well, she didn't remember _that _part of the song.

hakanaku chitta awai kataomoi  
waraibanashi dane ima to nar-

_BANG! BANG BANG BANG BANG!_

_...Oh._ That _wasn't _part of the song, was it?

Brittany shot up from the couch to hear the source of the noise. It was the front door; someone was rudely asking for entrance into England's home. Taking a glance at the clock, it was 3:00 am. _It's not even dawn yet. Who the fuck is banging on England's door?_

"Mr. England! SOMEONE'S HAVING A SEIZURE AT YOUR DOOR!" The girl yelled, refusing to get up, even at the cost of her voice. Brittany ran a hand through her hair, accidentally scratching her neck when it ended. Said man quickly trotted down the stairs, grumbling numerous profanities. Whoever was at the door was most definitely getting a time-out in Busby's chair.

"Yo, Britain! I got a call from my boss, he said that you wanted a meeting, so I came straight here with Canada!"

_...Oh, dear._

This won't end well, will it?

"_A-America_!? It's bloody 4-o'-clock! Why the hell are you at my _house!?_ Get out!" The older nation bellowed, trying to swiftly slam the door shut. America was, to England's dismay, faster and stronger than him, as he easily caught the door and pushed it open, stepping in. He was followed by a man holding a white bear, looking around worriedly and mumbling under his breath.

"Ha ha! Same ass-dragging jerk as usual!" America sang, earning a glare from his former caretaker.

* * *

"_Yo, Britain!"_

Oh, hell no.

"_I got a call from my boss yesterday! He said that you wanted a meeting, so I came straight here with Canada!"_

_No._ No no no no no. No. Not having it.

"_A-America!? It's bloody 4-o'-clock! Why the hell are you at my house!? Get out!"_

"_Ha ha! Same ass-dragging jerk as usual!"_

It was America. He was in the same house as me. I heard his footsteps; he was walking closer to the living room.

_All systems are go. Fire when ready._

I rocketed behind the couch, practically strangling Miku with my arms. I shrank down to the best of my ability.

_Preparing for boss battle. Hide-Like-a-Bitch mode engaged._

America sloppily dived onto the couch opposite of my hiding place. I heard his lips smacking; what the fuck was he eating? A lighter pair of footsteps followed close suit, mumbling. I only caught _hoser_ and _I can't believe he dragged me here. _

_Oh my God! It's the magical land of Canada!_

"America, get out of there, I swear..." England paused; I assumed he noted that I wasn't in sight. He mumbled, _"Must have startled her."_

Right on, man. Right on.

I breathed a small sigh as I peaked over the couch, catching a glance at the Brit looking straight at me. He gave me a smile of sorts and focused on America again. "I have very important things to take care of right now, America!"

"So? Tell me!" The nation at the receiving end of the glare retorted. England sighed, leaving a small silence. It was pretty clear he didn't want to say it.

"Remember the time I told you about magic energy levels going out of control?" America shrugged at the yelling man as his eyes glowed with some from of anxiety none could place, "Well, it's happening again and I need to fix it! _That's_ why I called the meeting!"

The American nearly choked, and Canada gasped from his place next to his brother. "I... You said that was a one-time thing!"

"That's what I thought. I know the cause, but I still need to find a solution. It needs to be _different_ this time." His blue eyes widened as his mouth widened slightly.

"...Wait, you _know!?_ What the hell is it?"

England smirked in reply. "I'll show you." He walked toward my little hiding nook and showed me a hand. His voice turned to a sweet whisper. "Come on now, it's alright." I took his offer and he pulled me in front of him with his hands on my shoulders. I tried to find a way to get him off of me without being rude.

"...This is _Brittany_." England said, smiling that same smile from when I told him my name in the alley. Huh.

Wait. England... Britain... Brittany...

_Oooooh, I get it._

"It can't be some random girl! The little dude is, like, 10!" _...Well, way to talk about me like I'm not here. Also, I'm eleven._ Canada nodded in agreement. They both looked exactly like I thought they would. Dirty blonde hair, blue and violet eyes...

"I know. I don't know why or how this is the case, but it is. My magic isn't wrong." At the word magic, both North American brothers stiffened. America cleared his throat.

"Alright. I trust your judgment. Now can you explain how this all happened?"

This was when Alfred went about as out-of-character as I could imagine.

_...'Murica._

* * *

It had been easier than England thought it would be to inform the two nations of the current events. The three had migrated to the dining room to discuss the situation after Brittany had fallen asleep; she began telling them about her life as a normal kid in America - no, not in that way, get your mind out of the gutter - as she fiddled with the DS she had taken from said country's pocket. It was only after she'd fallen asleep for him to notice she took it. He was pleased to see his Pokemon five levels higher than what they were before. **(1)** As the three discussed the goings-on, America kept his eyes on his game, seemingly not paying attention.

The sandy-blonde nation looked at the ground in thought, sighing. "So, after Holy Rome was born..."

"I don't want to go into the details, but yes, I believe so." England replied, shutting the conversation out. Canada actually let his voice out for the first time in the discussion, startling England slightly.

"What I don't see is the connection between her and Rome, Germania, and Holy Roman Empire. She's not some new nation I didn't hear about, is she?"

England shook his head. "Most definitely not. She's a normal human aside from the radiation, I'm afraid." The Brit fiddled with his hands; how could he not know the solution? There was something missing, something Brittany wasn't telling him. The empty feeling tugged at his mind; it was more than intuition.

"So, dudes, where do we start?"

England blinked. "We? You git, I don't have time to play your games!"

"Britain, dude, do you really think I'm gonna let the kid stay with you? You'd, like, dress her up in stupid clothes and make her eat your food! Do you _want_ her to die? You and I both know even I could barely stomach that crap after tasting real food."

The following rant from England was not comprehensible, but certainly used many colorful words.

America scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Screw that, you're gonna kill her before the meeting happens."

England let it slide, knowing his friend well enough to know he won't be able to reason with him. "Listen, since you came all the way here from the states, you can..." The Englishman paused, feeling hesitant, "You can stay here, alright? Just keep quiet and mind your own business."

"Sure, sure!" Came a snappy reply, "But I am not letting you cram the little dudette's head with," Cue horrible accent, "_proper British faggotry_." England rubbed his temples.

"Fine. Have it your way. I'm going upstairs. Find your own damn spot to sleep in. And you _better_ not wake her up!" England's voice had filled itself with venom as he shot a glare at America. As surprising as it was, both America and his invisible brother kept the promise, not uttering a single word loud enough to disturb Brittany. It was a peaceful night for the small amount of time left it could be called that. The North American brothers soon dozed off in their respective sleeping places of choice.

They weren't even disturbed by the footsteps pacing out the door and the sound of a bat scratching the glossy wooden panels below it.

It was 11:00 am, and three of the four people in the house were awake. America and Brittany both sat in the living room, the former watching television and the latter playing a stolen DS once more. Canada was in the kitchen, making some breakfast. Brittany silently thanked the heavens for the brothers' presence; she had lucked out of eating England's food for now.

"So, Mr. America, is this Ruby, Sapphire, or Emerald?" The girl said, finishing off a wild Pokemon. "I haven't played any of the Gen III games, so I dunno."

She stupidly forgot to check the game cartridge sitting in the Gameboy slot of the game system, green and slightly metallic. "Emerald." America replied. A silence filled the air before the elder came to a sudden thought. "Wait, how did you get that again? It was in my pocket!"

"Exactly. If it's not nailed down, I can get my hands on it one way or another." She mumbled, almost to herself. She gave a shrug, and the blonde came to a rather shocking conclusion; The girl before him may have been a slightkleptomaniac.

He voiced his opinion, getting a gasp from Brittany in return. "Hey, I am not! I just... like other people's things. I put them back," _most of the time_, "so it's completely justified."

Although her morals were questionable, it was good enough for America, who whistled innocently and nodded in reply.

"Can I ask you something?" Brittany asked, putting the game down. Now it was serious business. Of course, the thick-headed nation couldn't tell the difference.

"Sure! Go ahead."

"Mr. England said things that kinda told me that I wasn't the first case of the whole magic-y thing. What happened last time?" In reply, the nation let a nervous laugh slip past his lips. _Well, shit. _

It was with a word from Britain that America had sworn to keep his mouth shut about the topic. "It's a long story, dude."

"I... I just – _alright_." muttered the girl, her eyes once more being directed to the toy in front of her. The silence was a bit tense from Brittany's obvious frustration of being in the dark. It lasted a few minutes, as if she was trying to intimidate the nation. She sent the venomous glare to the man before her, staring a large hole through his head and to the paled orange walls behind him. However, America couldn't tell he was being threatened if there was a knife to his throat, so it didn't work.

Soon enough, Canada had rounded up the two soon enough to eat breakfast. He was startled at first by the glares the younger was sending to his brother, who couldn't really tell she was upset in the slightest. Golden-brown pancakes were scattered about a large plate in the center of the small kitchen table, sending a delectable scent of sweet maple and a hint of cinnamon. While Brittany had sit down quietly on a chair, making little noise, America quite literally dove to the table, stealing about half of the food on the center plate.

Canada sat down next to the youngest of the three. In reply, Brittany scooted a little to the side. Grabbing some of the pastries for themselves, they quietly began eating. The French-English nation had covered his pancakes in syrup, letting them nearly drown in the sweet brown color it held.

The girl next to him looked at his plate incredulously. "I didn't think Mr. England would have any syrup."

Canada smiled. "He doesn't, at far as I know."

Brittany blinked a few times before realizing he must have carried it on his person. She held back a laugh. "May I have some?" He nodded in reply, giving her the bottle to use as she liked. _It's... peaceful. It feels weird. Is this how people eat together?_

With a silent step, England had entered the kitchen. Somehow, he was not startled by the fact that the brothers had made themselves at home, cooking in his house without a word from him. He was more so amused at the scene of them and Brittany just enjoying a meal like any normal family would.

His thoughts were interrupted by said girl staring at him from her chair. Her neck was craned back so her head was hanging off the top of the chair, leaving Brittany gazing at him with her face upside-down. "G'morning, Mr. England. It's not a zoo, y'know. You can join us." She flashed a toothy grin, earning a small smirk in return. The elder nation sat and took a meal of his own from the now empty plate. He mumbled about his food being better and how Canada inherited his 'bad' cooking skills from France, however his gleaming eyes told all he was really only fooling himself.

America was nearly done with his once full plate as he asked, "What time izzit?"

England winced at his ugly eating habits, scolding him about not talking with his mouth full. After the lecture, Canada glanced at the clock. "11:30."

"Aaaaand we're eating pancakes!" Brittany sang, voice dripping with some form of sarcasm, but she soon became earnest. "I've never had anything from scratch before. This is really good." England stared at her.

"Don't you mean 'real'?" He asked, giving her a strange face from across the table.

"Well, yeah, of course they're real...?" Was the reply she gave.

"Ah, I mean... er, never mind." _American dialect is really strange. I'm not used to hearing it from anyone other than America himself._**(2)**

* * *

The day had gone on with little excitement. While England had began working upstairs to find a solution, America and Canada (but mostly the former) had taken the job of keeping Brittany entertained. As much as the girl found America's constant talk of heroism and other 'American' things annoying, he knew quite a bit about anime and video games. It's what she was best at talking about, after all, even if the elder had been carrying most of the chat. Canada had joined in at some points, but really wasn't too bright on the subject.

Later, after the sun had fallen and rested on the horizon, America excused himself from the room to speak with England. Actually, it was more of him yelling _be back in a minute, dudes, I gotta talk to Britain _and zooming away from his brother and Brittany and towards the staircase, but that was the closest you'd get to excusing oneself if talking about America. As the two left in his only-somewhat-metaphorical dust discussed polar bears and other animals, yelling had erupted from upstairs from England and America. Brittany scrunched up her face.

"Typical." She muttered, petting Kumajiro softly. Canada gave her a sideways glance.

"What do you mean?"

"Eh," she replied, shrugging, "My parents fight all the time. I guess I just got my hopes up about no fighting here when I'd gone a day without hearing someone yell."

The man beside her nodded. Although he didn't quite relate to fighting parents (or parents at all, for that matter), he could understand being slightly upset about the topic. "Well, Britain and America normally bicker, but they don't fight like this a lot. Just around this time of year."

"What? Fourth of July?" Brittany guessed, although it was more so a statement. She got a stare from Canada. "Well, he's America and the other is England. It's not really that hard."

The man let a little laugh slide out his lips, rubbing his shoulder in some form of nervousness. "Yeah, I guess so. Britain always gets irritable around now."

"I don't think I blame him," said she, her eyes glowing with some form of intelligence, "It's hard to let people go if you truly care about them." She stopped the rhythmic petting of the bear in her arms, getting a soft mewl of protest. Brittany bobbed her eyes about their sockets sarcastically before scratching Kumajiro's ear. Canada was about to question when America trotted down the stairs happily like a seagull with a french fry.

Whether that was a fast food joke or not, you'll never know.

"So, dudes!" The newly entered nation cheered, "We're all gonna chill around town tomorrow!" The pair sitting down gave him extremely confused stares, which America ignored without much difficulty. Brittany held in a scoff.

"What do you mean by that, exactly?" The girl asked, arms rising from Kumajiro's belly and up behind her head. She stretched and let out a little yawn, blushing slightly. As her hand hit the wall, a large banging sound echoed in the room.

"...Dude, you gotta be stronger than you look. You must've hit that wall _hard _to make a bang like that! America yelled, nearly causing Canada to fall off his seat, "But I dunno. We'll figure it out when it's a problem!"

The three chatted for a while, with Brittany not stopping her rather curious attempts (and successes) at stealing various items from America. No one was quite sure if it was because she was skilled, or if it was America's residency on Cloud Nine. The fun continued for a few hours; Canada and Brittany were both surprised by how casual they where acting, but they didn't quite mind.

The clock struck 3:00 pm soon Canada took it upon himself to prepare a meal, America and Brittany were left to idly chit-chat. The latter wanted to help in the kitchen, but didn't trust herself around anything remotely dangerous; she was the kind of person that could stab someone to death accidentally with a cotton ball. When she was offered a spot next to Canada to help, she burst out laughing. "Okay, _never_ ask me to cook! I was banned from the kitchen at home after the molten pizza incident!"

As Canada had almost finished the food, England had called from upstairs."Brittany? Could you be a doll and come join me up here?"

As his voice floated into her ears, said girl a look at America from the tone in his voice. Neither could quite place it, but it seemed... sweet, almost? A little too sweet. The child trotted up the stairs, calling back to The Brit. "Whatcha need, Mr. England?" She strolled into his study, noticing the rather obscene amount of books strewn about. She figured it was just his studying until she stole a glance upon quite a few light fantasy novels and a dictionary or two dispersed on the carpet.

Brittany looked to the desk at the opposing end to the door as England turned around in his chair. The lights were mostly off save a small lamp on his desk and the open window near the nation himself. The girl found it odd that he'd put the fan on and open a window, but she didn't question it. It was England, after all, and she knew that he had more than a single bolt a bit loose.

England waved a hand, gesturing to chair next to him. Brittany sat, closing the door behind her. The nation next to her leaned in, a little too close for comfort. "Well, love, I think I found a workable solution." As he spoke, Brittany caught a whiff of something odd in the room. _Ugh, stupid sensitive nose..._

Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she gave an uncertain reply."Er, what is it?" Looking down at the white carpet beneath her, she sniffled. England swiped something off the desk and fiddled with it before looked back at her, Brittany now staring into his eyes. She fell out of her chair in shock. Quickly after, Englishman pulled her up and gripped her wrist.

"Well, just be still and I'll show you!"

She looked into his eyes, trembling in fear. _No, no, this isn't... This can't be happening! _"You... You're not-!"

Her words hitched in her throat when a dampened cloth snaked around her mouth and nose. A scent as strong and sickly sweet as the faker's voice overcame her as she kicked and struggled, her screams barely escaping through the fabric in front of her face. _Oh God, oh God, dizzy... no, I can't-_

As her body became limp in his arms, 'England' picked her up and jumped out the window once more, carrying the girl with him.

His florescent blue-and-pink eyes danced with a disgusting, mad happiness before disappearing from the manor's green hills and light sky to a thick wood nearby. He melted into the shadows like he always had; but this time, he brought a little toy with him. The king of the chessboard, she was; absolutely useless, but the most vital part of the entire game.

This would be fun, yes?

* * *

**Yes, the molten pizza incident is a real thing. I can't cook for balls. What kind of woman am I!?**

**(1) No, this isn't just useless rambling. If you squint, it actually says a lot about Story!Me**

**(2)In English dialect, I believe that the word "really" is awkward in speech. So, in England, people say real good instead of really good. I forget where I read that, so if you're English and this is wrong, tell me.**

**FINALLY SOME ACTION _AUUUUUUGH._ I'm horrible at writing action scenes, by the way. Oopsies. But I must practice to get better!**

**Also, I my web isn't loading the review page for some reason, so I can't see your name, but whoever reviewed, the 2ps have come out to play~ Sorry I never replied, but I never got the chance to do so.**

**hurhurhur I pretty much turned Story!Me into extra luggage. Like she just does nothing but take up space and complain****. Oh well, too late to take her out now. Maybe I can remake this one day... /bursts out laughing/ **

**no too lazy.**

**Suggestions are welcome, blah blah blah. Lastly, I posted this online so I could get feedback on my writing, but I really have only gotten a single review. I'd really appreciate some criticism, so if you get a second, drop a review down! **


	6. Oh, That's Just Hilarious

**NOTE: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SOMEWHAT DISTURBING SCENES. SO. UH... YEAH.**

* * *

Various pieces of porcelain had been splintered about the floor in toothed, white bodies. Against the tan carpeting, they rested in a formation like jagged clouds against a disgusting, rotted sunset. England had woken up to the various parts of his vase scattered around his head in a deathly halo, causing him to recoil as soon as his eyes fluttered open.

"What the bloody hell happened!?"

He massaged his temples in confusion as his lids shut tightly, trying to recall the scuffle that must have happened.

* * *

_England had been working diligently at his desk, pulling books upon books out of their rugged oak shelves. Spells, chants, summoning... No, none of that would work._

_He got up once more to walk to his bedroom; he had a safe there for dangerous or unruly spells. He got on his knees next to the storage unit, his hand swiftly moving and pressing keys along the black box. When it opened, he nicked a gaudy, red leather journal off the bottom of the safe began to skim through it. "Yes, this'll work, I suppose."_

_He turned to find a figure behind him, smiling casually. It giggled mawkishly, sending England's spine a cold shiver._

"_Hello, Artie!"_

_England began to move fast, jumping onto his bed and zipping to the other side, giving him time to think of his next move. The man before him chuckled in amusement, moving to the nation before him painstakingly slow. "Well, I'd really love to stay and chat, but I've some business to take care of here. I just need you to take a nap for a bit."_

_The man sent a fist flying into England's chest, sending him back in a recoil of pain. He recovered fast, sending his own fist to the blue-eyed lunatic's face. As it make contact, a stomach-turning crack could be heard, signaling a definite hit. England began to speak, keeping his voice cool,"I didn't think you'd form so soon. What brings you to my home, Parallel?"_

_Blood ran down the other's face."I prefer Oliver. But I think you know why I'm here; After all, aren't we the same person? We share many things, including a certain something we seek."_

_Oliver landed a swift blow to England's face, sending him flying back once more. This time, however, instead of chatting with his target, the dark reflection had grabbed a vase off a table nearby. England got up slowly, speaking once more. "Even so, you'll have to wait until I'm dead to get to her."_

_The porcelain in his hands made a concise hit to England's head, making a blowing, crashing noise. Oliver laughed at the irony. "It's quite fine. I'm a patient man!" _

* * *

"Oh my God!"

England rushed down the stairs, calling the three other people in the house. When he scanned the dining room, he only found two. "America, Canada, have you seen Brittany?"

"Dude, you called her up, like, an hour ago."

"America, that wasn't me! It was the Parallels! They're back, and they've got her."

The tension thickened so much that you could grasp it; America's voice had suddenly risen slightly. "What do you mean, they got her?"

"My Parallel knocked me out and must've taken Brittany when he called her upstairs. We need to find where they've gone, because if he took her, they're forming a plan."

* * *

It's cold. Like, really cold. Where's the blanket? Ugh, and why is it so uncomfortable?

I opened my eyes and faced a gray wall that I don't remember seeing. Where is this place? What happened? England called me upstairs, and...

Holy shit, 2P!England! Fucking 2P!England was in the house! And – and – _Oh God oh God oh God!_

I bolted upright. I was in a windowless, dark room with no source of light save a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. A somewhat large mirror hung on the wall opposite to me, reflecting everything back at me. There were two doors; a wooden one and one that appeared to be metal. I ran to the wooden one first, opening it.

It was a shitty-looking bathroom with literally nothing but a toilet. _Fuck, no. Next door..._

I ran to the second one and jiggled the handle; it was locked. I couldn't think of anything I could do, so I banged my fists on the door, calling out for anyone. "Hey, let me out! Mr. England! Mr. America! Mr. Canada! C'mon, what is this place!?"

My yelling continued for about a minute before I heard the door's lock click. I backed away from the door, my heart sinking into my stomach when I saw who came in; I think it weighed me down, because I gracefully fell on my ass.

Reddish-brown hair, sunglasses hiding his eyes, red-starred jacket. It was 2P!America, and he wasn't happy. "Alright, kid. Letting you walk around in your own room is a _privilege. _If you don't keep quiet in here like a good little girl, then I'll make sure you _can't_."

I started shaking when my eyes drifted to his signature nail-encrusted bat. It _was _2P!America. I was alone with a dangerous killer. _With a bat._ I went through everything in my head; if he wanted me dead, I wouldn't be here right now. So he wants me alive.

Right?

"Where am I?!" I yelled, trying to muster up as much courage as I could, "Why am I here?"

"Calm the fuck down," _Over my dead body_, I wanted to reply, but I didn't want to press my horrible luck, "You'll figure it out soon enough. Now act like the little puppy you are and play dead in here, or I can help you."

I nodded numbly, starting to hyperventilate. He slammed the door shut, mumbling something I couldn't understand. I scrambled to the door, pressing my ear against it. Maybe he'd talk to someone about why I'm here? I could find out how to get out, or something?

I flinched at the first voice, "Oh, the little doll is awake? Why don't I go take a peek?" It was definitely 2P!England. Knowing he was here made my heart pound harder in my chest.

Something told me he was more dangerous than anyone else.

"I wouldn't. She's flipping shit." 2P!America said. I heard footsteps walking away, and by the way they were heavy and angry, I guessed it was 2P!America. I backed away from the door, cursing in both frustration and fright. This was so useless, and I was probably just stuck sitting here until someone comes to get me or I die.

I prayed for the former.

Crawling back to the mattress, I balled up and tried to calm down and think through everything clearly. Every time my nerves were even slightly relaxed, the thought of being at the mercy of 2Ps just kept popping up and ruining everything.

It wasn't very long until the door opened. I looked up to find my month's worth of nightmare fuel in the doorway, causing me to squeak in fear.

"Hello there, little poppet! Glad to see you're well!" 2P!England smiled, closing the door and stepping foreword. I shrank back, fearing the worst.

He is _unpredictable_. You can tell when 2P!America is angry or violent, but you never know what 2P!England is feeling. It was a horrible thing to realize that I couldn't predict him hitting me or doing anything else; he was literally insane, and I was going to see it first hand.

* * *

Brittany paled as 2P!England drew near her, the smile on his face encouraging her to try her best to dissipate into the walls or find some miraculous escape plan. The man took a knee in front of the girl and put on a smile sweeter than poisoned chocolates; with his strawberry lips and vanilla skin, flecked with small, hardly noticeable freckles, he looked like a falsely jolly man just waiting to get his hands on a person's life.

"I'm Oliver, love, and my friend who came to visit you earlier was Alan. You can call him Al. Now who exactly are you?"

Brittany dipped her head into her knees and shook violently in reply; her lip quivered with terror and she could _feel _him next to her, like he was some sort of force. Oliver slid a hand in between her head and legs and lifted her chin up so they were facing one another. His fingers snaked around her face like cold and wiry little ropes. His skin was even paler than hers, painting him a ghostly white as she stared into his eyes of blue, roseate snakes slithering around his irises. "It's rude to look away from someone who is speaking to you, Brittany."

His frozen touch had set off the bomb ticking in the child's mind. She ripped his hand away, shrieking and diving away onto the ground. Now in the fetal position, Brittany started to hyperventilate. "Don't... touch... me...! Don't you dare... touch me again!" She pulled at her hair, the chestnut twirls nearly ripping out of her skull. "Get the fuck away from me!"

Oliver twisted his lips into a smirk of domination.

The girl was chiraptophobic.

She became incapacitated from the terror of a simple touch.

_Well, wouldn't this be interesting?_

"Aw, it's okay, love! I'm not going to hurt you!" The 2P cooed, once more creeping up to the girl to scare her into submission, should she refuse to answer again. "Now I'll ask again, since you didn't answer before. Tell me about yourself."

"No, I don't have... a-anything to tell you!" She cried in between uncontrollable breaths. Quite the fighter, wasn't she? But no matter. Oliver had a way with breaking people; it was one of his _many_ talents.

He began stroking her hair in soft, rhythmic movements. When it ended at her neck, he twirled the end in his fingers before returning to the top. The girl beneath him started to sob and tried to speak, but her words were caught in her throat. He stopped his actions, giving her time to calm down and hopefully tell him what he wanted to hear.

After all, Oliver always got what he wanted.

The girl covered her head with her arms to shield herself, gasping for air. "I'm not going to tell you anything!" She choked out, trying to get up, but failing miserably and landing pathetically back on the ground over and over again. "Don't expect me... to do _anything_ you want..."

Oliver stared at her with flaming eyes, his lips starting to form some kind of twisted grimace. Before either could notice, he pulled them back up. "Oh, dear. Well, I can't talk to you if you're just going to ignore me! Maybe I'll come back when you aren't going to be as rude." The 2P got up from the ground, laughing like a child. "You're our guest, poppet. I expect the same amount of respect from you as I give!"

The door shut with a quiet, but firm slam. Brittany was left on the floor, sobbing and weeping uncontrollably. The terror she felt, that man's touch, the shivers crawling up her spine like cold, angry lizards...

It was real.

This wasn't just a silly fantasy – this wasn't just her time to hang around with characters she thought she'd never meet. This wasn't her world to play with.

She was really the cause of all of those problems England was talking about. The whole world's balance was her problem. If she wasn't in this situation, she would've laughed. How cliché; hanging with anime characters, feeling like some kind of all-knowing god because of the way she remembered every single thing about the people around her...

All those jokes taken away by one swift, cunning hand.

* * *

The air was heavy and dark, staining the three nations' breath a deathly, unseen color. England had told the North American twins what happened, to their absolute horror. After every corner of every room upstairs was painstakingly searched for some sign, some idea of were Brittany could be, the sun had run away, leaving only the moon to reflect light on earth.

"Oh, God, how the hell could this have happened?" England's voice rang through the air in a weighted, somber way. "Isn't there anything we can do? America, Canada, how could you just sit there, not caring!? She's bloody gone, and God knows what they could be doing to her-"

"Britain," Canada whispered, placing a hand on England's shoulder, "We do care. We're just as scared as you are for her, but we need to rest. It's late; if we're tired, it will slow everything down. You need to sleep."

The Brit looked at the younger nation, seeing his eyes turn an earnest, exhausted violet. He was right; getting no sleep would just hinder them. "...Fine. But we get up right at dawn to look for her, you got it!?"

Canada nodded. America had already fallen asleep, but his forehead was damp with sweat. He took all the guilt, claiming _it was his fault_, and that_ he was supposed to do his job as the hero to protect her._ To be honest, Canada felt the same way, but he knew that the blame game would do nothing to help them. He silently went through the facts in his mind: There were no tire tracks on the gravel road that made up England's driveway, so they couldn't have escaped with a car. They couldn't be far, either. The Parallels had to have been watching him and the other two nations, or else they wouldn't have known they had Brittany, nor that she was the source of the energy problem. They had to be within walking distance.

That was a start, right?

* * *

The sound of a door slamming open and hitting the hard walls had sent Brittany rocketing up from her restless sleep. The girl cowered in the corner once again, fearing what would happen. Was it Al? Would he beat her senseless? Would it be Oliver? Would he be there to terrorize her again?

"Hey there, brat." Al had strutted into the room with a pompous gait. He held a small, shining object in his instead of the usual bat, however Brittany wouldn't quite tell what it was. "Now, we gotta take a little something, and we can do it the easy way, or the hard way."

Someone walked in behind him. Blonde hair pulled into a small ponytail, shitty-looking jacket, and characteristic shades. So 2P!Canada was here, as well? That certainly did nothing to push Brittany towards cooperation.

Al loomed over the girl, and as soon as she saw what was in his hands, her voice let out a squeak of fear. In his hand was an empty syringe, and by the looks of it, it was meant for her. Acting on impulse, Brittany bolted through Al's legs, desperately wanting to avoid the absolute horror of something foreign being stabbed into her.

She got a good two steps away before a pair of calloused hands had grabbed her hair and threw her down to the ground. "Nice one, Matt." Al laughed, turning to the girl on the floor. She shivered, the hood on her sweatshirt covering her head as she lay sprawled out on the ground, shaking so fast she nearly reached a vibration.

Hmm... That hoodie would have to go, wouldn't it? "Matt, take that sweatshirt off her."

"What? No! Don't!" Brittany yelled, grasping her sleeves protectively. Matt, however, did not have to do much to break her grip and rip it off. "Ah, no! No, get off of me! _Don't fucking touch me!_"

The girl, left in her t-shirt, suddenly felt extremely violated. She never took that off in public; it was her blanket, a shield protecting her from the rest of the world. She cried out, telling the two to leave her alone and give back her sweatshirt.

Ignoring her plea, the Canadian reflection spread her arms out, measuring the wingspan of their captured songbird. He sat on her stomach motionlessly, giving Brittany no room to squirm, and hardly any to breathe. As Al jammed the needle into her arm, and she screamed as she saw blood being lifted into the syringe. She kicked and moved her arms as much as she could, but it did nothing save angering Al. His free hand began to hover over her face, making her squeal and move more. He brought his hand down onto the girl's face, sending her neck twisting away at the burning sensation now pulsing through her cheek.

Brittany whimpered, but said nothing nor moved. Her eyes welled up with saltwater as she remained still, shocked by her throbbing face. She stayed still, not even noticing they had left as she began crying once more in a huddled form on the ground. _No, stop... Don't touch me, don't touch me, don't fucking touch me! Give it back!_

She began to shiver in her curled form even after she realized they were gone. Holding her cheek, she stayed motionlessly on the floor, crying for someone,_ anyone _to wake her up, tell her it was another bad dream. And the more she yelled for herself to just wake up, the more useless she realized it was.

* * *

Time had passed to the next sun's rising, and England had gotten absolutely no sleep. While Canada and America were asleep in the living room, the Brit was restlessly pacing around his office upstairs. He had promised to keep her safe! He was supposed to take care of her, and he couldn't protect her the one time she needed him!

"Britain?"A small voice rang through the air, but England pushed it away.

He was such a fucking failure, wasn't he? First he made himself and America go through all that hell, and now this-

"Britain!" The voice called once more, much more sternly. England finally turned towards the source.

"O-oh. Hello, Canada." He replied plainly, "I didn't know you were up."

"You didn't sleep, did you?"

"...No, not really. But we need to start searching-"

"Listen to me," Canada's voice turned solid and a bit intimidating, giving England a shock, "America and I will start. When we find something, we'll tell you, but for now, you need to sleep. You look like you're about to collapse."

"Don't be silly. I'm fine." Replied the other, passing Canada and heading downstairs. The nation left behind sighed. He understood why England would feel this way, but he didn't understand why he just couldn't see what he was doing.

_"Britain, you're not going to let this go, are you?"_

But like any other day, Canada's voice melted into the air in vain.

* * *

**So, uh, yeah. Sorry, it's a little shorter than other chapters, but it helps the story flow better. God, this was hard to write. Like, it scared the living shit out of me. I couldn't stop shivering; 2P!England is absolutely terrifying. I'm a very observant person, and I can see a lot in a person by the way they move/speak/walk. When someone like Oliver comes along, and his actions don't say anything about his intentions, I get really freaked out because I don't know what they're thinking.**

**Yes, I am chiraptophobic. In case you couldn't tell what it meant in context, it's a phobia of people touching you.**

**In the story, the date is currently the 4th. Now, a couple notes about this:**

**England is so caught up in what has just happened that he's forgotten about the date, and America isn't insensitive enough to bring it up or skip the world meeting because it's his 'birthday'.**

**Oh, and for basic headcanon 2P traits, here:**

_**Oliver/2P!England – Bipolar; sweet and caring on one side, sadistic and cunning on the other. Iggy is tsundere, Ollie is yandere, in other words. He has blonde hair with only a hint of pink to it and blue and pink eyes. He is excellent at tricking people and flipping situations around to his advantage.**_

_**Alan 'Al'/2P!America – Angry, violent, and a bit angsty. He loves to be the villain, and relishes in people fearing him. He has deep red/brown hair and red-violet eyes. He believes fear and respect are the same thing.**_

_**Mattin 'Matt'/2P!Canada – Yes, Mattin is a real name. A mute by choice. The other 2Ps can somehow recognize what he means to say even without saying it; he's the brawn-over-brains kind of character, and although he isn't stupid, he isn't the smartest of the 2Ps. His hair is dirty blonde and longer than Canada's, normally in a ponytail. Striking red eyes. He leaves a lasting impression on people.**_

**Those are just the basics, because 'tis no fun if you reveal everything about characters from the start~! Also, I tried to stick with the widely-known features and personality traits of the 2Ps, but I wanted to add my own creative twist to them.**

**It's at this point in time that Story!Me is going to develop into her own character. She'll still have some traits as the real me, but since traits are mostly something you gain from experiences, she'll have to grow into a different person than I did. I'll try and fit in some of my own personality, though, 'cuz it feels weird writing my name down when it's someone completely different...**

**Lastly, my birthday is on July 8th, however, since I can't put anything in the story about Story!Me's 12th birthday without it being pointless filler or it interrupting the plot, we're going to pretend her birthday was earlier in the year and she's still eleven or something.**

**Oh, and thanks to you guys who reviewed, the lovely ****Lurking Pheonix ****and ****KiaraWangWilliams****! Thanks for your insight; it's hard to spot mistakes when you're the author, so when I get the chance I'll be sure to read over the old chapters and fix any mistakes I find.**

**Long author's note is long, sorry.**


	7. In Which England is a -Stupid- Badass

**Hey, guys. Sorry this is late, but I've been horribly ill lately. I dislike author's notes in the beginning of chapters, so sorry 'bout this. This chapter also has some creepy scenes. Anyways, let's get started!**

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"Hey, America! I think he picked up something!"

With Canada's voice flying through the air, Kumajiro continued to sniff the ground in hopes a trail would be found. His wet, black nose twitched thoughtfully, with matching white paws trotting behind. The bear spoke squeakily, "Who is she again? I smell her."

Canada still followed, encouraging him. "Good job, Kumahido! America, go get Britain and whatever you think we'll need, okay?" His reply was a swift nod from his brother, turning around and running in the other direction.

It had been two days since Brittany had first been taken, and the first day was mostly useless banter and fruitless searching. When Kumajiro agreed to help the next morning, the bear caught scent of a sickly-sweet foreign fragrance, as well as that girl who was petting him before. It was a bit faded, but still there. The group was exhausted; they hadn't slept well nor changed clothes since the girl went missing.

When America soon returned with England as well as a somewhat worrying amount of weaponry in his hands, the three regrouped and prepared for what awaited them next.

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_A little girl sat huddled in a corner, trying to force herself to melt into the walls, or disappear, or get away from this place. She didn't know how long she was there, but it felt agonizingly slow. Those... people, as they claimed to be, would come into her little room, asking questions with not-so-empty threats laced onto the end if she refused to answer them. It started out strangely casual, but slowly escalated into strange things Brittany couldn't understand._

"_Where do you live?"_

_Her voice was scratchy, just above a whisper. "A-America..."_

"_How old are you?"_

"_I'm... e-eleven..." Her eyes glazed over with tears._

"_Do you like cupcakes?"_

"_Oliver, shut the fuck up. Who are you?"_

"_You... know m-my name."_

"_But who are you?"_

"_I'm sorry...! I don't know, I mean, what y-you're asking-"_

"_God dammit, who are you? You're just a kid, right? How could this happen again, because of you!? You can't be fucking normal! Do you even realize what's at stake here?"_

"_N-no! I... I can't! I don't know! P-please, I-" She stopped when Al's hand snaked around her shirt's collar, bringing her up to his face. She trembled, knowing what was coming, and not being able to stop it with his hand grabbing the gray cloth around her neck. Through fruitless clawing and pleading, she could hear his growls as he drew his fist back, aiming for her head. 'This damned brat can't tell us anything? I fucking doubt it. If she won't talk, I'll fucking beat it out of her-'_

_A hand grabbed Al's, forcing him back. In the process, he dropped the girl and she fell onto the floor. As she let out a cry of pain and held her chest, looking up at the scene before her in both fear and curiosity._

"_Al, hitting her is not going to solve anything. Come on now, you should take a little break." With this, the two just casually the room, almost as if they weren't about to beat a child half to death and they weren't going to mercilessly torture said child._

_So back to her corner she went, using her beloved black sweatshirt as a makeshift blanket. It wasn't too long before Brittany fell asleep from exhaustion._

After she'd woken up, Brittany turned her aching body over to find a small tray on the floor. A glass of water stood tall on it, and-

_Oh, hell no._

It was a platter of cupcakes. Of_ all things,_ it just _had_ to be that. Swirled blue and pink frosting on the yellow cake made it look oh-so-innocent. Brittany knew better, however. She was NOT going to eat those; she'd seen more than enough fanart of Oliver to guarantee that. She resisted the initial reaction of flinging them away; what she'd also learned was that he wouldn't quite take no for an answer when it comes to his sweets.

The water, however, was a different story. It had been at least two days since she'd last had a drink, and she couldn't keep it up much longer. Slowly, she reached for the water, her arm shaking from fear, like it would jump out at her and skin her alive. (At this point, she wouldn't be surprised if it did.) Taking a gentle sip, she felt so much relief from just a simple drink of it. She began gulping it down, feeling the liquid running down her throat and relishing it greedily. She finished it quickly, and put it down on the floor next to her.

After the initial rush of happiness the drink gave her, the girl's pale skin twitched with nervousness. A tugging feeling rose in her head. It was anxious, telling her something was wrong here. Brittany glanced around with her pink lips twisted into a frown, trying to see what exactly was causing it. When she didn't find anything, she brushed it off as just the situation was in, which would most definitely cause such paranoia.

After a short while of sitting in her corner, she began feeling strange. Dizziness washed over her, causing her eyes to flutter slightly. _Ugh, I feel weird now... just tired, or... _

A hidden brush painted her body numb and lethargic, causing her to inwardly panic. _No, no no no... I __can't- shit, the fucking water! They put something in it! How could I be so stupid? Oh, fuck, no! Please, oh my God, work with me, body! Ugh... I'm too tired... I don't wanna think... _After even moving her pink fingers became a trial, she quit trying and began to lay there, unable to move or think clearly.

_I feel sleepy..._

She let herself relax numbly, her thoughts melting together into fog, barely telling left from right. Although not unconscious, the girl couldn't feel her body and was unable to move at all. Her eyes were half-lidded, shadowing her view of the world as she began to see feet appearing in her vision. She was picked up roughly, and as she struggled to regain her senses, fuzzy, lagged voices faded into her ear.

"I don't see why we had to drug her. It's not like she could fight us or anything. It's almost boring."

"Well, as fun as it would be to watch her try, to be quite frank, her struggling was getting annoying. I'd lose my temper soon enough, you know! Plus, it's just funny."

A giggle erupted from the latter's voice, giving Brittany's mind a muffled scare. What was going on? Where was she? Why was that man laughing?

_No... I don't... want this... hey, put me back... _She tried to speak, to object to whatever was happening, but her words came out as garbled, torpid noises. She wasn't able to do anything as she was taken out somewhere unknown.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

"Well, this is just plain cliché."

After a walk of gods-know-how-many miles, the ACE trio stood in front of a small, seemingly abandoned building of gray walls and but a single floor. Still, it towered over them with a feeling of lost anxiety, sending chills down the trio's spine. It was just like the many horror movies the "hero" of them watched.

Before the three could fully finish their observation, voices began to erupt from the back of the house, giving them a scare. America nodded, signaling they move forward. Guns ready to fire, they anxiously turned the corner with the intention of shooting anything in their way.

America moved first, turning to find a pair of happy blue eyes boring right into his own. Before the nation could react, a large blade was stuck in his side faster than he could have anticipated. America fell to the ground, frozen with shock as a small stream of giggles was let out from the attacker's mouth. The blonde let out a small groan of pain as he rolled his head to the side to face England and Canada.

"Hiya! I wasn't expecting you three so soon!" Oliver said, pink streaks dancing in his eyes as his cheeks stretched out to his ears in a mad form of glee. England, without hesitation, pulled the trigger with a blazing shot, the bullet lodging itself into Oliver's skull.

Canada rushed down to is brother's side, coming to his aid. Being a nation, his body heals with extreme speed, but for the meantime, the American was incapacitated. England looked down at the brothers as Canada glanced from the wound to the wincing America. "It's not too bad; it should heal in a few minutes. Here, let me help you. Britain, I'll be right there, just go on ahead. Kuma, go with him."

The bear nodded, humming an answer of compliance as he followed England forward. Canada looked at his brother and frowned deeply. His violet eyes narrowed with some form of anger as he pulled a bandage out of a pocket and began wrapping it around the elder's torso, "I'll stay here with you for the meantime. Oliver won't be dead for long."

In reply, Canada received a weak nod. "Yeah." A pause, "...Wait, where the hell did those come from?"

"Canadian healthcare." (1)

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

England made his way around the house, slowed slightly by worry._ Bloody hell, America... I'm sorry. Good lord, how could I be so stupid, letting him go on ahead like that? _

He wandered the yard in thought until he spotted what appeared to be a garage with two silhouettes walking toward it. Upon closer inspection, the first was holding a smaller form in his arms, barking at the other. England couldn't quite pick up the words, but he didn't have to.

They were right there. _She_ was right there. However, he couldn't strike now; it would be suicide!

At least, that's what anyone else would think.

"_I'm going to kill you bastards if it's the last thing I do."_

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**Okay. This is late, short, and it's absolute garbage.**

**I regret nothi- /brick'd**

**Okay, but seriously. I've been a huge mess lately. I had a relapse a couple of weeks ago, shit like that. I've been so horribly depressed lately; I'm pretty sure my doc's gonna up my Prozac. Ugh. Also, just a reminder: Depression isn't a choice. It's a chemical imbalance in the brain. But self-harm (this includes drugs/alcohol) is always a choice. Always. Don't be stupid.**

**I scared the living shit out of my friend after that. I cut in study hall, since I sit in the emo corner 10 desks away from everyone else, and I headed up to biology and I was so dizzy I was like "Fuck." I started crying before class and she took me to the nurse and nearly had a heart attack. **

**...Sorry, I needed to rant. Jesus, you should see me try and say this in real life. I'd probably just have a stroke from timidness. So yeah, typing/writing it is all I can do.**

**On the bright side, I took some standarized tests today, and I finished super early (I just BS'd the whole thing tbh), so I looked at the counter next to be and I literally saw a box labeled "Elegant Spoons". Just a box with plastic spoons in it. But it was ELEGANT.**

**I fucking died. In the middle of the test. Like, seriously, they almost kicked me out. Worth it. Lastly, I rewrote chapter one on the fifth. Just an FYI if you want to read it.**

**Arrevaderci!**


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